“In your eyes. The light, the heat. Your eyes, I am complete. I see the doorway to a thousand churches.”
Certain songs, they have that magic. They make your body move with a chicken-like head bob and get you rocking as if the San Francisco earthquake is happening in your pants. An hour break means I won’t be falling behind on progress notes anytime soon. Instead, I’ll be enjoying a hearty homemade salad filled with smoked trout, beets, chickpeas, and broccoli, accompanied by music. Even if it’s just playing on my humble phone speaker… wait, is there a cool speaker charger combo accessory for my iPhone? Invent it, and I’ll be the first to buy it.
Today, during a counseling session, my inner Matlock couldn’t help circling back, saying, “But that doesn’t make sense.” Yet, when it does, and the pieces click into place, I may lean a bit toward the too-excited end of the pendulum.
For those following my home heat furnace saga, where even space heaters set to high barely keep it at 65 degrees, here’s an update: turning it back on to check didn’t lead to it shutting off. Meaning, the whole house is warm and cozy. My fear? Canceling the technician for tomorrow’s appointment and it acting up again.
On the drive home from work, with only our headlights illuminating the dark, and windshield wipers struggling to keep up with the heavy rain, my mind skipped to a future moment—one where my home is in Georgia. Will this be my last winter in the Pacific Northwest, with its seemingly endless rainy days? Instead of today’s all day constant two-inch rainfall, will I experience an hour downpour followed by clear skies? The Magic Eight ball says: Reply hazy, try again tomorrow.
Time for a little Squid Game competition before bed. Nighty night! Take care, and I’ll see you tomorrow.
Love,
Jaclynn
Going On 40 